HOLLYWOOD

In the early ‘80s, enigmatic graffiti--chiaroscuro silhouettes of a man--began turning up in Manhattan. This lurking shadow man seemed to be everywhere, and the longer the identity of the artist tattooing the town with this image remained a mystery, the more compelling the figure became. That dramatic introduction launched the career of Richard Hambleton, but on the evidence of his first local solo show, he looks to be a one-trick pony. This shamefully lackadaisical exhibition gives the impression that Hambleton isn’t particularly concerned with building on whatever curiosity may have been piqued by his graffiti campaign.

Hambleton has converted the Zero into a sort of environment, but exactly what he has in mind with this ill-conceived mess remains his little secret. (Hambleton seems to be a man who enjoys secrets.) These are a few of the clues he offers: One gallery room has been painted bright red; the longest stretch of wall in the red room is given over to a painting that resembles an Oriental screen; basically a pale-blue field spattered with white paint, this highly abstracted image resembles a massive, cresting wave throwing off a thick spray of foaming water.

Hambleton has painted the entry gallery black, and bisected it by leaving the lower half of the wall unadorned, while the upper wall is decorated with the white spray patterning. A third room is composed of 30 basically identical photographs of that Oriental wave, affixed to the wall with either black or silver tape. Some of the photos are tinted, some are scribbled on, some are spattered with fluid. A fourth room features two paintings, one the silhouette of a young man seen through a rain-drenched window, the other a mid-size version of the wave image. Both paintings are taped to the wall. This haphazard show has attitude to burn, not much thought and even less feeling. (Zero One Gallery, 1231 Vine St., to Wednesday.)